"I don't know about you," Nyssara said coolly, "but I should be just fine."

As she spoke, her body shimmered and faded, vanishing into thin air. Her form turned translucent, her presence erased—like she'd never been there at all.

"Uh… what?" Abyssion blinked, stunned. Something felt off. That was definitely her just ditching him.

Wait—no, no, no, don't leave me! Lady Nyssara!

Panic surged through him, and in that split second of distraction, a sharp, stabbing pain exploded in his skull. His vision went white, his thoughts scattered—and then, nothing.

His body moved on its own.

Without warning, he lunged toward the spot where Nyssara had just cloaked herself, his hand shooting out—and grabbing her arm.

"Wha—?!" Nyssara's eyes went wide, her pupils narrowing into slits. "What the hell are you doing?!"

But Abyssion didn't answer. Instead, he gave her a twisted grin—one that didn't belong to him at all. It was cold, mocking, and unmistakably familiar.

It was Wraithshade's smile.

He'd been fully possessed.

Wraithshade's psychic abilities were notoriously insidious, but even for him, taking over a Voidborn Undying wasn't easy. It required perfect timing, immense power, and came with serious risks. But somehow, he'd pulled it off—at least for now.

Nyssara's fury flared. Her fangs clenched tight, her voice a low growl.

"Let go of me, you freak! Get lost!"

She yanked her arm free and bolted, slipping into another hiding spot to reactivate her stealth.

But Abyssion—no, Wraithshade—was right on her heels.

She barely had time to vanish before he was there again, crashing through rubble, eyes locked on her like a bloodhound.

She reappeared, face twisted in disbelief, only to see that same smug, taunting grin.

"Son of a—!"

She vanished again, darting to another location.

But he followed. Again. And again. Like a damn curse she couldn't shake.

"Wake up, you idiot!" she hissed, voice low and furious. "Stop following me!" Her tone was laced with venom now—she was this close to tearing him apart herself.

From a distance, Ethan and the others watched the whole thing unfold like it was a comedy skit.

He didn't even try to hide his amusement.

Nyssara ducked behind rocks, slipped into cracks in the earth, even tried diving into a pile of corpses—but Abyssion kept showing up like a bad rash that just wouldn't go away.

Meanwhile, the rest of the battlefield had descended into full-blown chaos.

The Guard Mechs were in full slaughter mode. Severed limbs and shattered torsos littered the ground, blood pooling in thick, dark rivers. Some of the corpses were stacked so high they looked like grotesque hills.

And now, the "Overlord Squad" had arrived.

Big Ears and his three fellow zombies stood at the edge of the carnage, surveying the scene.

"Boss already deployed the ace mechs," Big Ears said, cracking his knuckles. "Guess it's our turn now."

"Yup yup," Shrimpy nodded eagerly. "Gotta save the big guns for the finale."

The battlefield was a bloodbath, but Big Ears scanned it calmly, eyes sharp. "Keep your eyes open. We need a good target. Time to earn our stripes."

"Got it!" the others chimed in, practically bouncing with excitement.

But the Guard Mechs were tearing through the enemy like a buzzsaw through butter. Even S-rank Zombie Kings were being forced to retreat, unable to withstand the relentless assault.

And at the front lines, the elite Saber Corps—three thousand of Ethan's finest—were cutting a path straight through the horde. Wherever they went, the enemy crumbled. Bulldozer and Sprout flanked them, shielding the unit from counterattacks. Not even high-tier zombies could get close.

Abyssion's forces were collapsing fast, fleeing in all directions.

But Big Ears and his squad? Their energy signatures were weak—barely noticeable compared to the heavy hitters. That made them look like easy prey.

And sure enough, one S-rank Zombie King took the bait.

"Hey, what do we have here?" he sneered, eyes lighting up. "Finally, something I can actually beat!"

He stepped forward, a jagged bone spike extending from his arm with a sickening crack.

Bone mutation.

Sensing the surge of killing intent, the four zombies of the "Overlord Squad" all turned their heads in unison.

"Well, well," Big Ears grinned, baring his jagged teeth. "Looks like we don't even need to go looking—someone's volunteering."

"Hmm… judging by the bone mutation, he's probably got some serious strength," Mist muttered, analyzing the approaching figure with a calm, clinical tone.

Big Ears just shrugged, completely unfazed. "Doesn't matter. I like 'em strong. Makes it more fun. I'll take this one."

The approaching S-rank Zombie King furrowed his brow, clearly surprised. These four looked like nobodies—low energy, weak presence—and yet they weren't backing down. Hell, one of them was even stepping forward to challenge him directly.

Where the hell did these clowns get their confidence?

Big Ears strode up to him, arms crossed, posture relaxed like he was about to negotiate a business deal.

"Look, we don't want you crying about being outnumbered, so I'll give you a choice," he said, voice casual. "You want a one-on-one? Or a four-on-one beatdown?"

"…Huh?"

The Zombie King blinked, caught off guard. He hadn't expected them to be this… polite?

There were four of them. Obviously, a one-on-one would be in his favor.

"…I'll take the one-on-one."

"Fair enough," Big Ears nodded. "Though honestly, the moment you stepped in front of me, you already lost."

The Zombie King's expression twisted. "Big talk for a dead man!"

He was getting pissed now. "I've got bone mutation, strength enhancement, and a rare combat trait. I'm not top-tier, but I'm damn close. You think you can beat me?"

Big Ears yawned. "Yeah, yeah. You done?"

Without waiting for a response, the opposing Zombie King raised his arm, bone spike gleaming, and dropped into a combat stance, his aura flaring with raw aggression.

But Big Ears?

He casually reached behind his back, rummaged around in his back pocket… and pulled out a Crystal Core Hand-Cannon.

He raised it, aimed, and—

BANG!

A blinding flash of energy burst from the barrel, the air around it warping from the sheer heat and force.

"Wha—?!" the S-rank Zombie King's eyes went wide, pupils shrinking as the blast reflected in his gaze—growing larger, brighter, like a miniature sun screaming toward him.

The light swallowed him whole.

BOOOOM!

The ground shook violently. A shockwave ripped through the battlefield, and a small mushroom cloud rose into the sky.

Big Ears casually blew the smoke from the barrel, then tucked the cannon back into his waistband.

"Handled."

"...…"

Back on the other side of the battlefield, Abyssion was still under Wraithshade's control, relentlessly chasing Nyssara and ruining every attempt she made to cloak herself.

Nyssara's fangs were clenched so tight they could've cracked bone. Her fury was boiling over.

Damn that Wraithshade…

But then—an idea sparked.

Even if Abyssion was possessed, he couldn't match her speed. If she could just outrun him, put enough distance between them, she could slip into stealth without interference.

"Let's see you keep up with this."

She took off like a bullet, her body blurring as she pushed her speed to the limit. Sure enough, Abyssion started falling behind, unable to match her pace.

She glanced over her shoulder—he was getting smaller and smaller in the distance.

A grin tugged at her lips.

Finally.

But when she turned her head forward again—

Her heart dropped.

There, standing directly in her path, was a figure in a white shirt. Calm. Still. Waiting.

Ethan.

And he was close. Too close.

Nyssara's body locked up mid-sprint, her momentum grinding to a halt as her eyes widened in horror.

Ethan didn't move. He didn't need to.

He looked at her with that same unreadable expression, voice low and final.

"It's over."

…

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